


If You Only Walk Long Enough

by couronnedesfleurs



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Mystery, Skywalker Family Feels (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couronnedesfleurs/pseuds/couronnedesfleurs
Summary: With his father missing and his mother deathly ill, nothing seems to make much sense to Luke. When he goes chasing after a mysterious blue and white rabbit, will he find the answers he's looking for, or will he lose himself in the process?AKA the Alice in Wonderland AU that no one wanted or asked for, but wrote itself regardless.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 27
Kudos: 50





	1. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke searches for answers, but might get more than he bargained for when he follows a mysterious rabbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was *supposed* to be taking a break from writing due to crippling mental health but this fic came to me like a fever dream and wouldn’t stop bugging me until I wrote the bloody thing. This is Lewis Carroll’s world; I just fuck around with George Lucas’s characters in it for a little while. 
> 
> Inspired by the weird and wonderful music of Erutan. [Jabberwocky](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlyrweRsILk&ab_channel=Erutan) and [Tarts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExGE6X7PHjI&ab_channel=Erutan) are basically the soundtrack to this fic.

‘Do you think she’ll ever wake up?’

‘Of course she will.’

The alternative was unthinkable.

Kicking their legs idly in the stream while the sun bore down on them, the Skywalker twins should have been enjoying the summer like any other children their age. It was not like they lacked the temperament or imagination for playing. Luke, drawn to adventure, wanted to become a pilot just like his father who had gone missing in action when they were younger, and as such, he was adept at creating exciting game ideas for the two of them to play. Leia, as the more practical twin, was most likely to give the ideas structure and rules so that they could both play fairly (for neither would ever be accused of being a cheat). As far as siblings went, they were for the most part harmonious, and usually whiled away many happy hours of shrieking laughter at play in the sprawling gardens of their country manor house.

But it was not to be. Not now that their mother had fallen so ill.

It had happened seemingly out of nowhere the week prior. One moment she had been pruning her beloved roses, the next she had collapsed to the ground with a weak pulse and paper white skin. She’d been unconscious ever since.

Deemed too unwell to be moved to a hospital, she was carefully placed in bed by the servants and the local doctor, who attended to her several times a day. The mystery illness completely baffled him, as well as his colleagues whose advice he'd sought; but the seriousness of it, whatever it was, was undeniable. Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen had arrived to look after the twins, as well as to watch over their ailing sister-in-law; but uncertainty and empty words lingered in the air, poisoning the lazy summer days and darkening the July sunshine.

How could they play when their mother hovered dangerously in the chasm between life and death? Wherever that was. Luke had spent quite a bit of time thinking about it; if he ever found a map that led to it, he would march straight there and bring his mother back with no hesitation. He’d voiced this to Leia, who told him morosely that they didn’t have a map, and no means of finding one, which led to another tense silence between the pair.

With their minds heavier than most ten-year olds would ever have the misfortune to experience, the twins gazed unseeingly out over the grounds. They could not even find solace in the beauty of the garden- their mother’s pride and joy (though she would always deny this and say that the twins exceeded any claims on her affections that the garden may have). She insisted on doing most of the work herself, which had resulted in many gardeners leaving their employ over the years, complaining that there was no work to be done. There wasn’t a lawn in the grounds that she hadn’t kept mown herself, nor a hedge untrimmed. The proof of her love and tenderness surrounded them in the form of tulips, bluebells and sweet peas, sunflowers that towered even taller than the twins. But the roses were her favourite.

‘ _Your father proposed to me right beside that rose bush, you know,’_ she would tell them as she tucked them in, smoothing over their sheets and stroking their hair as they drifted off. They knew- she had told them the story many times before- but that didn’t mean they didn’t want to know all over again. ‘ _He picked the most beautiful one- a Queen among roses, truly- and placed it in my hair, before asking me to marry him.’_

Not long after she’d fallen ill, they had found a rose in full bloom, rare for that time in July, and placed it next to her bed, hoping that she would spring upright in outrage that they had stolen from her sacred bush. But she lay there, still and pale, breathing in and out so faintly that they had to put their ear right next to her chest to prove that there was anyone still left in there at all as the rose wilted.

They knew that their Aunt and Uncle were worried, more worried than they let on to the twins. Aunt Beru would try and distract them with games and stories, and Uncle Owen gruffly played along. But they had heard the harsh whisperings at night time when the twins were supposed to be asleep, talking about ‘ _the worst-case scenario’_ and ‘ _making arrangements’_ and ‘ _adoption papers’_. Leia had squeezed Luke’s hand particularly tightly at that word.

There was nothing wrong with their Aunt and Uncle. They were kind and loving in their own way; but they were no substitute for their mother.

Nobody was.

‘I’m going to see if the doctor has been by yet; I’ll try and get out of him what aunt and uncle aren’t telling us.’

Leia suddenly sat up with a decided expression, dusting imaginary grass stains off her skirts, and Luke knew better than to argue with her. His sister wasn’t known for idleness, nor patience. There was part of him that felt almost sorry for the doctor- he was only doing his job, and he’d probably been sworn to secrecy by their well-meaning family. But he, too, despised being treated like a child, although he was one. Their mother was theirs, and theirs alone. It was their right to know what was going to happen to her- for better or for worse.

Before he could say another word, she was off, marching over the lawn with purpose and determination. He watched her go, and was prepared to go back to mindlessly splashing his feet in the stream again, when a flash of white caught his eye.

Jumping lightly to his feet, he stealthily followed the rabbit around the stream towards the grove of oak trees at the side of the garden.

He peeked over the top of a bush, not wanting to scare the little animal away. It was most curious; most wild rabbits were varying shades of brown or black, and he wondered if it was a neighbour’s pet that had escaped. Should he try to catch it?

The rabbit seemed to sense his thoughts, for it stopped grooming itself as its head turned quickly in his direction. Without the obstruction of paws, Luke could see that this was most definitely _not_ a regular wild rabbit. For what wild rabbit had he ever seen with a white body and powder blue ears?

He blinked several times, but they were still unquestionably blue. Perhaps it was some kind of illness, or maybe someone had pinned the poor thing down and dyed them blue as a joke. Regardless, it was unnatural, and Luke wanted to help.

‘Hello, little one,’ he said gently, ‘I won’t hurt you.’

The rabbit stared at him curiously, unblinking, its head cocked to the side as if sizing him up. Luke had never been assessed by a rabbit before, but there was a first time for everything.

He got close enough to touch, and gingerly lowered himself onto his haunches. From what he knew of rabbits, they were prey animals, and didn’t like being approached from above. It was best to try and get on their level as much as possible.

He was surprised when the rabbit let him pet its head, feeling the soft velvety fur slide underneath his fingers. He noticed that apart from the glaringly obvious oddity of its ears, it also possessed an electric blue tail, with other small strange markings dotted over its body.

‘What happened to you?’ Luke asked, feeling rather daft for engaging in conversation with a rabbit. The rabbit seemed to agree as it stared indifferently back at him, nudging its head under his hand as if to say _stroke me again._

‘Okay, okay,’ Luke laughed as the rabbit wiggled its tail in appreciation at the repeated petting. ‘You’re awfully tame. Whose garden have you escaped from? I bet your owners are mad with worry.’ 

It was then he noticed the hole he was crouched beside, too large to be a regular rabbit hole, but as he could think of no other name for it, that would have to do.

_Curiouser and curiouser._

He was certain it hadn’t been there the day before. He and Leia knew every inch of these gardens, even with its many acres. His mother certainly wouldn’t have let her gardens fall into such disrepair under her watchful eye, and there was no way someone could dig a hole that deep in only a week. It would have taken much longer than that, and someone in the house would have noticed.

No- it looked achingly old, ancient, the kind of thing that historians and archaeologists would be raving about should they ever stumble across one.

The little creature seemed to be looking intently at its leg, just above the paw. Luke was reminded, rather hysterically, of his uncle constantly checking his pocket watch for the time.

With a small squeak, it suddenly darted from under his hand, leapt into the hole, and out of sight.

‘Hey!’ Luke cried, worried for the rabbit’s life. He scrambled over to the hole and peered down.

It was a long drop, so long that he couldn’t make out the end- if it even had one. He hated to think of the poor thing lying in agony at the bottom.

What would Leia do if she were in his situation?

Before he had time to properly ponder that, the earth beneath his fingers crumbled into dust, and he toppled headfirst down the rabbit hole.

 _Well,_ he thought through his gut-wrenching panic, _she most certainly wouldn’t have done **that**. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten house points for guessing which sw character will be which Alice character (honestly I'm not 100% sure myself yet).
> 
> If comments be the food of fanfic authors (and they really, really are 😉) then please write on!
> 
> Thank you for reading 💕
> 
> Come scream about Hayden Christensen with me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fleurscouronne) where I also post writing updates.


	2. The Caterpillar and the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke makes a not-quite enemy and a not-quite friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to sleep but this fic won't stop bugging me. 
> 
> Once again, I have to give a *huge* shoutout to Erutan for her otherworldly music that inspired this fic, to the extent that [Jabberwocky](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlyrweRsILk&ab_channel=Erutan) and [Tarts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExGE6X7PHjI&ab_channel=Erutan) are basically the soundtrack.
> 
> Enjoy!

The fall seemed endless, and Luke wondered if he would be tumbling for the rest of his life. Somehow, he’d managed to manoeuvre himself upright, but it didn’t stop the sickening feeling of his stomach rising into his chest, flailing limbs doing nothing to stop his fall. He was sure he was screaming, but he could hear nothing over the roar in his ears as the velocity of the drop whipped stale air back and forth in his face.

He wondered vaguely if he’d hit his head on the way down, due to the odd items he saw flash past as he fell. Cupboards and bookshelves filled to the brim with clocks and ornaments, dusty volumes and pictures of strangers. It was impossible to tell if they were falling at the same time or were stationary as he passed, sitting on tiny crevices and nooks that stuck out jaggedly from the sides of the hole.

All manner of miscellaneous objects drifted past as he plunged; portraits and armchairs and candelabras, and perhaps most incongruously of all, a full-size grand piano. He caught sight of a mirror at one point, reflecting his shocked face back at him, albeit upside down, and it made him wish he was floating upwards like his looking-glass counterpart. He would have grabbed a book to distract him and offer him a tiny bit of comfort in his descent, but he was terrified of dropping it and killing somebody-

_THUMP._

His body hit the earth with a tremendous impact, and it took a few moments for his brain to catch up and realise he was no longer in free fall. He sprawled on the marble floor, dazed and thankful that he somehow hadn’t broken anything after such an impressive plummet.

 _Or maybe I am dead after all and this is the afterlife,_ he thought morosely, inspecting himself for any oddities, perhaps a pair of angel wings. This theory was disproven however, when he heard the scampering of small paws. A quick glance upwards confirmed utter darkness, and he peered down the dingy corridor to see the rabbit darting around a corner.

‘Hey!’

He stumbled to his feet, chasing after the small creature as fast as he could. He rounded the corner to find himself in a long hall, lit by dim lanterns that tinkled overhead.

There was no sign of the wretched rabbit.

It must have escaped through one of the five doors Luke was now presented with, all of varying shapes and sizes. He tugged at the most likely looking handle, to find it would not budge. With a sinking stomach he tried the other doors, only to find the same result.

It was difficult to fight the overwhelming desire to sit on the ground and cry. He was reminded of a storybook his mother had read to him when he was young, about a girl who cried so much she almost drowned in her own tears. This had him blinking his eyes dry, scrubbing away the droplets that had already fallen loose. Crying was all well and good, but where would it get him? Not out of here, that was for certain- wherever _here_ was.

As he moped listlessly around the hall, he was startled by a gleaming glass table that he was sure hadn’t been there a second ago. Placed innocently on top was a tiny glass vial, and an even tinier key.

Picking up the vial in one hand and the key in the other, he inspected its contents. There was a small label attached to the neck, with a message written in elegant cursive:

‘ _Drink Me’._

It was a clear, odourless liquid that seemed rather harmless. For the lack of any other option, he took a deep breath and swigged the whole thing in one go.

Immediately he felt very peculiar. The table was growing, its glass legs elongating to the size of giant trees. The ceiling with its twinkling lanterns now felt as far away as the stars in the night sky were to the naked eye.

He glanced down at himself, to find with an unpleasant jolt that it wasn’t everything else that had grown; it was him that had shrunk. He was now about the height of a thumb, and the door handles seemed no smaller feat than the tallest mountain. He was glad he’d at least grabbed the key before he’d drunk the liquid; for he was now so tiny, there was no way he could have made his way up the long table legs to retrieve the key.

In utter despair, he collapsed to the ground and leant back against the wall, fully intent on having his well-deserved crying session, as he was now so small that his tears could only be of little consequence.

‘Argh!’

With a cry he fell flat on his back, the key flying out of his hand as the wall seemingly disappeared behind him. Dazed for the second time in less than ten minutes, or whatever strange unit of time they used here, Luke decided he was sick of being on the ground, and would rather be as far away from it as possible in the future.

Dusting himself off, he could see that he had not fallen through the wall, not had it disappeared. A tiny satin curtain, so tiny he had not seen it from his regular height, had concealed the small passageway he now found himself in. There was a door at the end, with cracks of light seeping underneath.

Heart fluttering lightly with tentative hope, Luke hastily grabbed the key before it grew legs and ran off- for this world was so strange, he could easily believe such a thing into existence. With a deep breath, he slotted it into the minuscule keyhole, and turned.

He could have whooped for joy at the sensation of direct sunlight hitting his face, lighting up his world in vivid technicolour. He could not see far into the distance, obscured by green grass stems as he was, but being out in the open air once more roused his spirits, and he set off as quickly as he could. Surely, he could find someone who would be able to restore him to his proper size, and get him home.

As the sun beat on overhead and the hours dwindled- or perhaps it was minutes- Luke became more and more tired. His legs hurt from manoeuvring the gigantic blades of grass, and he felt like he was inching his way through a particularly tiresome obstacle course. In the back of his mind, he was worried about encountering a creature bigger than him and being accidentally crushed underfoot- or worse, pursued like prey. The eerie silence made it even worse- every crunch of earth underfoot or sway of grass as he levered himself around the stalks had him on edge, and the adrenaline was wearing thin on his body.

‘And _what,_ exactly, are you?’

Luke let out a small scream. Towering above him, so huge it shrouded the sun and cast him in near darkness, was a caterpillar. Tiny as Luke was, it was easily big enough to squash Luke under one of its many legs, which draped imperiously over the leaf he was perched on. He was smoking some kind of peculiar glowing purple pipe, blowing out rings of violet smoke that made Luke’s head feel fuzzy.

‘I-I’m sorry?’

‘W _hat,’_ the caterpillar intoned, ‘are _you?_ Are you an ant? A beetle? Some hitherto unknown species of small crab? _’_

Luke bristled.

‘I think you mean _who,_ not _what_. And I’ve changed so many times since this morning, I hardly know, you see-’

‘No, I do not see! Again, I ask: what are you?’

‘I’m a _boy_! And my name is Luke. Luke Skywalker.’

It was the caterpillar’s turn to bristle.

‘Not another one. Wasn’t one bad enough?!’

In a huff, he turned away from Luke, seemingly set on ignoring him in favour of his purple pipe.

‘I don’t know what you mean, sir,’ Luke said, trying to be polite as his mother would have wanted.

The caterpillar snorted.

‘’ _I don’t know what you mean,’_ he says. A likely story! Will I be forever cursed by your kind?! Can you not leave an old caterpillar alone to live out the rest of his life in peace?’

‘Well, you won’t always be a caterpillar,’ Luke pointed out, ‘So I’m hardly bothering you much as it is-’ 

‘ _“Won’t always be a caterpillar”?_ What do you mean by this extraordinary statement? Are you threatening me?’

With each word the caterpillar seemed to puff up in outrage, his pipe producing so much smoke that Luke started to cough.

‘No!’ he exclaimed, ‘I just mean to say that, well, you won’t _always_ be a caterpillar. One day you’ll become a chrysalis, then you’ll transform into a butterfly, or a moth. I think that’s right, anyway-’

This seemed to incense the caterpillar to a whole new level. He rose to his full height, glaring down at Luke.

‘I see you are just as impertinent, just as reckless, just as _other_ as the old one.’

He began to slither away and Luke panicked, temporarily forgetting his fear of getting crushed as he attempted to run after the caterpillar.

‘Please, don’t go! I’m sorry if I offended you! I just want to get back to my regular size and go home, to leave this place-’

‘Then why did you come here! Foolish child.’

‘I didn’t do it on purpose!’ Luke said indignantly. ‘There was a rabbit who fell down a hole, and-’

‘Then this rabbit is as foolish as you! I used to have a friend, once, who had a wise saying- ‘who’s the more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows it?’ You and this rabbit would certainly make a fine pair. Now, what do I have to do to make you go away?’

‘I just want to go home,’ Luke repeated.

‘I do not know where ‘home’ is, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’ the caterpillar said snootily.

‘Okay, you don’t know where home is, so can you point me in the direction of someone who does?’ Luke said slowly, his nails biting into his palms. ‘I promise, if you tell me, I will leave you in peace.’

The caterpillar exhaled slowly, fixing Luke with large dark eyes as he slinked back onto his leaf.

‘I don’t hold much faith in promises. Especially coming from your kind.’

Luke bowed his head, defeated, and the caterpillar seemed to find a tiny bit of sympathy from somewhere.

‘“ _Direction”_ , you say?’

His head shot up.

‘Yes! You know…north, east, south, west. Even left or right will do!’

‘I do know of someone, who once existed. Whether he still does, I do not know. I do not venture in that…how did you say? ‘ _Direction’._ He may be able to help you. But be warned; if you find him, you will doubtless find trouble. Others that you do not wish to meet.’

‘I’m in enough trouble as it is, so I’ll take that chance,’ Luke said eagerly. The caterpillar exhaled a long puff of smoke.

‘Then you’ll want to go in the direction that is definitely not…’ he closed his eyes and swivelled several times on the leaf, as if he was playing blind man’s buff, ‘ _that_ way.’ He jerked his head towards the path Luke had just come from.

‘I already knew that,’ Luke muttered, to which the caterpillar snapped, ‘What did you say, boy?!’

‘Nothing. Thank you for your help.’

‘Now, will you leave me alone?’

‘ _Gladly,’_ Luke said under his breath, leaving the smoking caterpillar watching after him shrewdly, clutching his purple pipe.

This day was definitely going from bad to worse.

* * *

He didn’t know how long he had been trudging through this strange land. The barren path had quickly led into a lush green wood, filled with twittering birds and bubbling streams. Rather than comforting him, this instead made him feel majorly homesick, as he yearned to be back in his own garden where he was safe and regular sized. If _only_ someone would help him, then he would be able to walk much farther! It was hard to make real progress when your legs were the size of matchsticks. Sometimes he swore he saw the rabbit, bounding through the grass ahead of him; but whenever he rubbed his eyes again, there was no trace. He was starting to wonder if he’d imagined the rabbit all along.

The twittering birds got louder and louder, and the flowers started to talk to him as he passed, unable to withhold their curiosity any longer. Some were kind, asking his name and where he was from, one daisy even petting his hair.

‘What a pretty colour!’

Luke blushed, and the flowers cooed.

‘He’s adorable!’

‘He’s _tiny.’_

‘I never saw a human so small before!’

‘Not even A-’

‘ _Shhhhh!’_ the primrose hissed viciously, ‘we do not speak his name!’

‘Who? Whose name can’t you say?’ Luke asked, but the flowers all remained tight lipped.

‘Off with you, boy!’ the primrose said sharply, ‘your kind aren’t welcome here! You only bring bad misfortune.’

‘I think you mean ‘ _luck’,_ and I’m going as quickly as I can!’ Luke protested, levering himself over yet another branch as the flowers began to bicker between themselves.

‘He’s only a boy, leave him alone!’

‘That’s what they said about the other one, and look how _that_ turned out-’

‘Don’t let those flowers bother you. I swear one day they’ll talk each other to death, once and floral.’

Luke looked up sharply, searching for the amused voice that had momentarily silenced the flowers.

It was the grin that he saw first, hovering like a particularly bizarre apparition in mid-air above one of the high tree branches. As it solidified, so did the rest of its head, followed by a body, and a long, bushy tail.

If you discounted the unusual grin, it was a very beautiful cat, with blue and white patterned fur. Curious swirling designs were etched delicately on its face around its long whiskers. A pair of perfectly pointed ears were aimed in Luke’s direction, whilst large, luminous blue eyes fixed on his face discerningly. 

‘Are you related to the rabbit I’m following?’ Luke blurted out stupidly. So many questions on the tip of his tongue, and _that_ had to be the one that came tumbling out.

‘Do you usually come across cats that are related to rabbits?’

The Cat sounded entertained.

‘Erm…no?’

‘Then, no.’

‘But it did look like you!’ Luke protested with reddening cheeks, determined to save face. The Cat stretched back lazily, its tail curling around the branch.

‘Was it white with strange markings? Blue ears and tail?’

‘Yes!’ Luke exclaimed, ‘and last I saw of him, he was heading this way. Well, I didn’t _see_ him per se, but I know he came in this general direction. Seeing as he led me here, I was hoping he could help get me back to my normal size-’

‘Ah, yes. I was going to ask if that was intentional.’

‘Does it look like it?’

‘How am I to know if you wish to be big or small, little or large? It’s all the same to me,’ the Cat said breezily, sharpening its claws on the rough bark. The flowers, which had been muttering none too quietly about the cat’s rudeness, piped down fairly quickly.

‘Well, it’s not all the same to _me._ I’m a human, and all I want is to be a regular size again. W _ould you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’_

‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.

'I don’t much care where-' said Luke.

‘Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,’ replied the Cat.

‘—so long as I get somewhere,’ Luke added as an explanation.

‘Oh, you’re sure to do that,’ said the Cat, ‘if you only walk long enough.’ 

Luke let out a long, frustrated exhale.

‘I don’t have time to be walking, especially at the size I am! My mother is very ill, and I must get home to her as soon as possible.’

The Cat’s astonishing eyes seemed to soften slightly.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. But what makes you think that getting home will help?’

Luke stared.

‘What do you mean?’

‘What if you are supposed to be here? That is, if we are ever meant to be anywhere.’

The Cat started grooming itself, and Luke decided he’d had enough of this conversation.

‘Well, it was lovely to meet you, but I have places to be.’

He started to march off into the undergrowth.

‘Now hold on just a second, young one!’

The Cat leapt gracefully from the branch, grinning ever wider at the shrieks of terror from the flowers as it barely missed landing on them.

‘You’re doing all this backwards. One usually states a greeting, their name, and their business before saying their farewells.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Luke shot back sarcastically, ‘I’m Luke, Luke Skywalker, and I’d like to go home. Now, _goodbye_ -’

He’d barely taken two steps away before the Cat swiped the back of his shirt with the tip of its claw, bringing him up to eye level. The rest of its body had frozen, bristles of fur sticking up on its back like tiny corrugated spikes.

‘Luke Skywalker?’

‘Yes,’ Luke replied, tired of everyone reacting badly to his name, and rather wanting to be back on the ground.

‘Well, I wish you’d said so in the first place,’ the Cat murmured, examining him ever so intently as he swayed like a pendulum. ‘That changes things.’

‘I don’t see what’s changed. I’m still tiny, and I still want to go home!’ Luke protested.

‘Now I see why he led you here. It all makes sense; if there is such a thing to be made.’

Before he could blink, the cat whirled him around in mid-air, and deposited him on its back. Luke grabbed a tuft of fur, clinging on for dear life.

‘W-what are you doing? Where are we going?’ he yelled as the cat quickly stalked through the grass, leaving the flowers in the dust. Given the snail’s pace that Luke had previously been travelling at, this change of speed had him feeling faintly sick. He flattened himself against the Cat’s fur to try and stop the jostling motion.

‘Don’t be scared. I know someone who can help you. He’s mad, but don’t let that put you off. He’s truly the wisest creature in Wonderland.’

‘Wonderland? That’s the name of this place? And what do you mean ‘ _mad’_? I don’t want to be among mad people,’ Luke said, privately doubting whether the title of the wisest being in a land like this was really such a huge accolade. 

_‘_ Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’

‘How do you know I’m mad?” said Luke indignantly.

‘You must be,” said the Cat archly, “or you wouldn’t have come here.’

Luke didn’t see how he could argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O.O who were our mysterious caterpillar and cat? And who will Luke be meeting next??
> 
> If comments be the food of fanfic authors (and they really, really are 😉) then please write on!
> 
> Thank you for reading 💕
> 
> Come scream about Hayden Christensen with me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fleurscouronne) where I also post writing updates.


	3. The Mad Tea Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and the Cat attend the strangest of tea parties, which is soon gatecrashed by an uninvited guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to update sooner but I’ve been super busy and had nothing pre-written, HOWEVER my *very* belated secret santa gift arrived in the post last week and it’s the most gorgeous foiled Alice journal with my favourite Tenniel print on the front 💕 So ofc I had to try and get another chapter out after that inspiration. 
> 
> As always, a *huge* shoutout to Erutan for her Alice-inspired music that is basically the soundtrack to this fic, particularly [Jabberwocky](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlyrweRsILk&ab_channel=Erutan) for this chapter.

Luke had almost fallen asleep on the Cat’s back by the time they reached the Hatter’s home- or lack thereof.

‘Oh dear,’ said the Cat, ‘I think they’ve been waiting for some time.’

In the middle of an otherwise deserted clearing sat a long ornate table, which had been set up for a tea party sometime in the last century. Upon a lacy table cloth -a nasty shade of yellow that had probably once been dove white- sat the most comprehensive collection of tea pots, cups and crockery that Luke had ever seen. Whether they were fit for human use, however, was another matter. Fleets of delicate porcelain were now buried under centimetres of dust, and cobwebs adorned the extinguished candelabras and vases of wilted flowers like dainty funeral shrouds.

An ancient rickety gramophone sat off to one side, relentlessly spinning a crackling record out of sheer spite. Sat at the helm of the table was a curious little green creature, who was banging his stick enthusiastically to the eerie tune.

 _“_ ’ _Twas brillig and the slithy Toves_

_Did Gyre and Gimble in the Wabe!”_

If Luke had succeeded in falling asleep, this racket would certainly have woken him up. He had no idea what the creature was singing about, but he wasn’t particularly enamoured to find out. The table was surrounded by gloriously mismatched chairs made of spindly wood, crushed velvet and striped satin, enough for about twenty people. But aside from the green creature, there was only one other occupant, and Luke raked his eyes over him dubiously. A hare, much bigger than the little white rabbit that had led him into this mess, with grey robes and long tufts of fur on his chin and the top of his head. He absentmindedly tapped the side of his teacup out of time with the music.

‘You really think _they_ can help me?’ Luke muttered to the Cat dubiously.

‘Judge not with your eyes, little one. The Hatter and the Hare are the wisest beings in Wonderland.’

But Luke found this immensely hard to believe. He’d never stumbled onto so bizarre a scene in his life; not even when meeting the haughty caterpillar. The Hare looked supremely vague, and the green creature seemed long past the point of sanity. He was almost dwarfed by the size of the rather ridiculous top hat he sported, and Luke struggled not to laugh.

‘Think me foolish, do you? Old and frail, hmm? Know nothing, you do,’ the Hatter sing-songed in a peculiar anastrophe, peering down at Luke. 

‘You’re awfully small for a boy. If that’s what you are,’ the Hare commented.

‘I am a boy. And I’m not really small. Well, that is to say I _am-_ but just not this small usually,’ Luke said, stumbling over his words. Perhaps their madness was beginning to rub off. ‘I want to get back to my normal size as soon as possible-’

‘Have some wine!’

Luke stared at the strange interruption and peered along the table, but could see nothing except tea.

‘I don’t see any wine,’ he remarked.

‘There isn’t any.’

‘Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it!’

‘It wasn’t very civil of you to sit down without being invited!’ retorted the Hare.

‘I haven’t sat down!’ Luke argued in frustration.

‘Very well. Then pray, tell me: why is a raven like a writing desk?’

Luke goggled.

‘I don’t know. Why?’

The Hare raised an eyebrow.

‘I haven’t the foggiest. Why would you ask me?’

‘Because it’s _your_ riddle,’ Luke said slowly, starting to wonder if there was anyone sane in this world. ‘Remind me why we’ve come here again?’ he muttered to the Cat, who was watching everything unfold with its unending grin.

‘I told you. _He_ is the only one who can help you,’ the Cat murmured back.

‘Long time since I’ve seen _you_ , it has been,’ the Hatter addressed the Cat and completely ignored Luke, ‘left us all that time ago, you did. First time you have sought us out since, it is.’

‘I like firsts. Good or bad, they’re always memorable,’ the Cat said, springing onto the comfiest looking armchair and languidly settling itself into the pillows with a purr, Luke clinging onto its fur for dear life all the while. ‘I made my own path. Sitting around drinking tea all day isn’t quite my style.’

‘Come to us now, why have you?’ the Hatter enquired. The white markings on the Cat’s face rose ever so slightly.

‘You must see why I’ve brought him here. The boy; you _must_ know who he is.’

The pair exchanged a dismissive glance, and the Cat rolled its large blue eyes.

‘This is Luke. Only son of Skywalker.’

The Hare finally seemed to sit up and take notice, eyes wide. Even the Hatter seemed to regard him with more interest than before.

‘We’re looking for someone to help us,’ Luke piped up, unnerved by all the sudden attention on him.

‘Looking?? Found someone you have, I would say!’ remarked the Hatter, causing the Hare to burst out laughing. Luke couldn’t see what was so funny, and he said so.

‘Impatient and hurrying, the youth of today are. Help you I can, yes. But a cup of tea, first you must have.’

‘Oh, thank you, but I don’t think that’s-’

‘The ability to think does not make you intelligent!’ the Hare wagged a paw at him with grating superiority.

‘I never said I was intelligent-’ Luke began.

‘Oh, so stupid, you are?’ the Hatter enquired.

‘I didn’t say _that_ either!’ Luke erupted. He turned to the Cat. ‘I think we’re wasting our time-’

‘Time! Ha! Such a thing as time, is there? Where you come from, maybe. Here, there is not,’ the Hatter retorted. He resumed pouring tea into surplus cups, muttering to himself all the while, ‘I cannot help him. The boy has no patience, like his father.’

Luke’s grip loosened on the Cats fur in shock, and he slid off, his fall cushioned by the pillows.

‘You- you knew my _father?’_

The Hatter tilted its head at him, looking him directly in the eyes.

‘Know your father, everyone does. Hard to avoid, the knowing is.’

‘But how did you know him? What was he ever doing _here?’_

‘Seeking more, as ever, your father was. All his life he looked away, to the horizon, to the future. Never his mind on where he was, or what he was doing. Adventure! Excitement! Like you, he was reckless. Thought the same, the Caterpillar did. Tried to warn us, he did. “Much fear that clouds his judgement, there is”-’

The Hare very unsubtly cleared his throat, pouring himself yet another cup of tea which proceeded to overflow onto the tablecloth.

‘More to say, have you?’ the Hatter said archly.

‘I don’t presume…’

‘But you do! Revealed, your opinion is. Much like before, hmm?’

‘Yes. We must help this boy, regardless of his father. He is the son of Skywalker. Nevermind the past, we must look to the present, for it will soon be the Frabjous Day!’

Luke wasn’t sure what had changed the Hare’s mind so quickly, nor what the Frabjous Day was, but he could hardly bring himself to care. He was still fixated on the mention of his father.

‘So where is he now? At home- in my world, I mean- he’s disappeared. For good, everyone told us. But I don’t believe it!’

For the first time, in front of total strangers no less, Luke allowed himself to open up about how he really felt. He’d always kept it close to his heart, not wanting to upset his mother or Leia. But as he uttered the words, the more he realised he’d never truly accepted that his father was dead.

‘Lost, your father is. Attempt to seek him, you should not. Let him go, you must. Attachments, slow you down they will,’ the Hatter warned. Luke gaped in outrage.

‘But he’s my father! I can’t just give up on him if he’s alive, and that’s what you mean, isn’t it?’

Somehow, despite all the oddities he’d encountered so far, the thought of finding his father in Wonderland was the most frightening. Suppose his father had been trapped here the entire time? Doomed to wonder this sprawling land of mad creatures for eternity, where sense was meaningless and time was backwards? Or worse- what if he’d preferred being here, and deliberately had never come home?

Luke sank onto the cushion, overwhelmed, putting his head in his hands.

‘This can’t really be happening. This can’t be real,’ he muttered in dismay. The Hare caught his words on the wind, and fixed him with a stern, if kindly, look.

‘Your focus determines your reality, young one. Remember that.’

Luke looked to the Cat for help deciphering the Hare’s meaning, as if it was another riddle.

‘What is your focus, Luke? Chasing the ghost of your father? Or getting back to your mother?’

Luke glared at the Cat, infuriated that it was right. He’d been so distracted by his father, he’d forgotten about the imminent danger his mother was in.

‘I have to get back to her,’ he declared to the Hare and Hatter, standing up and crossing his arms. ‘You must tell me how to get back to my normal size, and how to get out of here. _Please!_ I’ll do anything.’

‘“Anything”, you say? Promise such things, you should not. Freely offer yourself, you should not. Lead you to trouble, like others were led before you, this will.’

‘I’m not afraid,’ Luke jutted out his chin. The Hatter set down his teacup slowly.

‘You will be. Oh, you will be.’

Luke shivered at the creature’s unblinking stare as the Hare chimed in:

‘Beware the Jabberwock, Luke. The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!’

‘The Jabberwock?’ Luke asked, confused, as a shiver went down his spine.

‘Oh yes, the Jabberwock. Gruesome beast. Most evil, it is. One with the King, it is. Only with a vorpal sword, defeat it you can. Only the chosen one, the vorpal sword may wield. Once defeated the Jabberwock is, so will the King be, and the White King will reign again. Once the White King reigns again, go home you can.’

Luke had never heard of a vorpal sword. He racked his brains, trying to think back to his history lessons, even the myths and legends he devoured when he was younger; but he could not think of any hero ever brandishing such a thing. Nor could he think of any of them being coined ‘the chosen one.’ And the White King only made him think of multiple chess tournaments played with his sister.

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know who this ‘chosen one’ is. Why can’t the White King, whoever he is, find the chosen one and defeat this Jabberwock?’

‘The chosen one, you now are.’

‘ _Me?!’_ Luke gestured down at himself in disbelief, ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m barely five inches tall! I’d be flattened by this vorpal sword of yours, much less be able to wield it!’

The Hatter waved him off impatiently.

‘Restore your height, we will. Wield the sword, you will. Free this world and return to your own, you shall.’

‘Look, I’m sorry, I _really_ am, but there’s been some mistake…’

Luke trailed off as his ears pricked at sounds in the near distance. Horses hooves galloping, armour clanking, feet marching.

For the first time since he’d met the Cat, it looked slightly afraid as it exchanged looks with the Hare and the Hatter.

‘The Dark Knight,’ it declared grimly, uncurling its beautiful striped tail. The Hatter nodded.

‘Time to run, there is not. Hide, you must.’

An agitated whinnying noise signalled the horses getting nearer and nearer, closing in with alarming speed.

‘There’s my cue. Keep him safe.’

The Cat vanished in fragments, its grin the last thing to fade away. Before Luke could protest, he found himself scooped up and dumped into an empty teapot, the lid closing overhead and leaving him in almost complete darkness.

‘HEY! Let me out!!’ Luke yelled, banging the porcelain wall. His fist was so tiny, however, the effect was rendered practically silent.

The Hatter and the Hare carried on as if they weren’t hiding a human boy in a piece of crockery, nestled safely in the former’s hands. Indeed, they resumed their singing and tapping with even more enthusiasm than before, and Luke wondered for the first time how much of the madness was actually an act.

All the same, Luke could feel the moment the intruders happened upon the clearing. Even if they hadn’t made such a loud dramatic entrance, it would have been signalled by the way the air seemed to tighten, the tension palpable even in Luke’s small teapot. Silently, he made his way to the spout and attempted to peer out, to get a glimpse of what was happening. But all he could see was darkness.

An unnatural, rasping sound settled over the table, and Luke realised with horror that it was the sound of breathing.

‘Hatter. Hare. You seem as mad as usual.’

If the breathing had been unsettling, the voice that followed had Luke’s hair standing on end. Goosebumps rippled over his skin at the deep, mechanical sound that promised only death and destruction.

‘Dark Knight. Looking very…dark this evening,’ the Hare replied brightly despite the fact it was mid-afternoon, and Luke heard the sound of yet more tea being poured. ‘Care for a cup?’

‘There is a boy wandering these parts. A human boy,’ the Dark Knight said lowly.

‘Boys? What are those? Do they have tails?’ the Hare said, lazily leaning back in his seat.

‘Tails, they do not have. Whiskers, they do,’ replied the Hatter sagely.

The table tremored beneath the teapot, and Luke gasped from the brunt force of the fist that slammed down on it.

‘The boy has been seen by several witnesses. He was heading this way, accompanied by that irrepressible cat. Apparently, they were searching for _you.’_

‘Boys, we have none! Cats, we have none!’ the Hatter declared, raising his teacup as if in salute, ‘but bats, we have some!’

‘And mice!’ the Hare toasted him back.

‘And fish!’

‘There’s always a bigger fish,’ the Hare declared solemnly.

The Knight let out a sigh. It rattled unnaturally, like a snake escaping from its enclosure. It was then that Luke realised the darkness he could see was not the narrow end of the spout at all; it was the creature’s gargantuan armour, broad and black and dreadful.

‘You do not want to test my patience. It has a very finite reserve. I will ask once more, and only once…’

With an ear-splitting crash, the table violently upturned and its contents were sent flying in all directions. In the resounding cacophony of breaking china and porcelain, Luke was grateful that the Hatter had been holding his teapot securely, otherwise he would surely now be no more than a broken shard.

‘Where. Is. The. _Boy?’_

A terrifying crackling sound rippled across the clearing, a low hum that vibrated with an unnatural frequency.

‘A boy, there is not. A boy, there never was. Search, you shall by all means, but find him, you will not. To hide, we have nothing,’ the Hatter said, and Luke found a new bit of respect for the creature for standing his ground against this monster, who could surely finish him off in a matter of seconds.

There was a new commotion as with much clanking and clattering, the soldiers of the Dark Knight upturned every last inch of the clearing, searching under the broken table and round the backs of the willow trees that enclosed the Hatter’s home. Throughout all this the Dark Knight kept breathing, methodically, threateningly, as he prowled the length of the table towards the Hatter. The gramophone warbled on in the background, incongruous in the tension of the moment.

‘There’s nothing here, my Lord!’ a voice piped up, ‘we’ve searched everywhere! They’re telling the truth, mad as they are.’

The breathing intensified until it came to a stop unnervingly close to the teapot, so close that it penetrated Luke’s eardrums and sent his heart cartwheeling into a spiral of panic. Luke pleaded with it to cease, to keep quiet, for surely his heartbeat would reveal him to this monster, and then they’d all pay.

‘Do not think me ignorant of your tricks, Hatter,’ the Knight murmured, filled with such menace that Luke felt tears prick his eyes, ‘you always were a meddlesome fool. Just like the others. And look where it’s brought you. Reduced to a mad creature squatting in the forests of the land you once protected.’

‘You really must have a cup of tea, you know. It’s quite refreshing,’ the Hare cut in, and Luke wanted to cry. Did the Hare have a death wish?

‘And _you._ You’re no better. I once thought you a wise being, but I was mistaken. I should take it upon myself to teach you both a permanent lesson.’

Luke held his breath, his eyes wide.

‘But I will be merciful, in exchange for information. You tell me you do not know the whereabouts of the boy, but you must have some knowledge of the Cat; she always admired you, for some reason. I have sought her for quite some time, yet she remains, as ever, the master of evasion.’

‘The King’s orders, these are not,’ the Hatter said shrewdly, ‘seek her for your own gain, you do. All you ever did, that was.’

‘I am my own master,’ the Knight said dismissively, ‘and she was never quite as foolish as the two of you and that cursed Caterpillar. Even now, she holds great potential.’

‘Here, the Cat has not been. Lives in the daisy fields, she does. With the boy, long gone she most likely is.’

There was a long, suffocating silence.

‘And the White King? Where is his last known location?’

‘Gone, the White King is. Destroyed by your King, he was.’

‘We all know that’s not quite true.’

The breathing came ever nearer, and Luke curled himself up as small as he would go, as if this would somehow conceal him.

‘You’re very lucky the both of you and that infernal Caterpillar hold enough power between you to fend off the King and to keep your heads attached to your bodies. For now. But as we all know, that power will only last so long. And when that has faded?’

Luke clapped a hand over his mouth, terrified his ragged breathing would give him away.

‘Believe me, broken crockery will be the very least of your worries.’

‘We do not worry here, my friend. There is always more crockery in the sea!’ the Hare declared.

‘More tea to be poured, there always is,’ the Hatter agreed.

‘Imbecilic fools,’ the Knight rumbled, finally moving away from the teapot and giving Luke’s heart a much-needed reprieve, ‘very well. I shall leave you to your rotting minds. The King sends his compliments, as well as a reminder to stay well away from his realm; unless you wish to permanently lose your heads, that is.’

‘I should say they’re fair well lost already!’ the Hare said cheerfully, to which the Hatter let out a mad cackle of laughter. The Knight scoffed in disgust, kicking fragments of china out of his path as he wheeled away. 

‘Come, men. We are finished here. Let these creatures get back to their tea party- or what’s left of it,’ he spat contemptuously, mounting his horse and signalling his army to do the same.

There was a brief pause, and Luke tensed up again.

‘I _will_ have that boy. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I _will_ have him. One way or another. It will be yet another failure to add to your collection,’ the Knight said, dangerously softly, before kicking the horse’s flank into action. The clanking and clattering retreated as quickly as it had come, but Luke didn’t release his mouth until the grove was completely silent once more. 

He was relieved to see sunlight as the teapot lid was lifted away and he was deposited back on the table.

‘Thank you,’ he breathed, willing his heart to calm down, ‘you risked yourselves for me.’

‘A dangerous creature, the Dark Knight is,’ the Hatter said unnecessarily, ‘avoid him at all costs, you will. Seek him out, you shall not. Engage with him, you must not.’

Luke privately questioned why he would _ever_ go voluntarily anywhere near the knight that wanted to- capture him? Kill him? He wasn’t entirely sure- but kept quiet out of gratitude.

The Cat reappeared then, its grin back in full force. Luke realised that the Knight had referred to the Cat as ‘her’. He had spoken of her so familiarly, and of the Hatter, the Hare, and the Caterpillar. They had all once known each other. He itched to know more, but one look at their faces, and he knew it was best not to ask.

‘Now, last things first. We must get you back to your proper size,’ the Hare said, nonchalantly stepping over fragments of teapots to set a strange-looking cake down in front of Luke. It was glossy with pink fondant icing, and the words ‘Eat Me’ were elegantly piped on top in white sheen.

‘Oh no,’ Luke groaned warily, ‘I’m not falling for that again. Drinking that vial gave me nothing but trouble!’

After becoming the size of one of his mother’s thimbles, he’d vowed to never eat or drink ominously labelled delicacies again.

‘You needn’t worry, Luke,’ the Cat said, stretching over the back of the armchair, ‘it will merely reverse the effects- as long as you only take _one_ bite, of course.’

Luke didn’t want to think about what would happen if he took several more. The cake certainly looked delicious enough for it, but he didn’t fancy becoming freakishly tall either. The Knight would have no trouble finding him then.

Gingerly taking a meagre bite, his eyes largened as he felt his limbs elongate, his spine stretch and his surrounding settings shrink until he was back to normal- or thereabouts. If the cake had given him a few extra inches on his previous height, he said nothing. He would merely lord it over Leia later that he was now the taller twin.

‘Still small, you are,’ the Hatter said, and Luke glowered.

‘Now that you are restored, you must find the White King and defeat the Jabberwock,’ the Hare urged, ‘time is of the essence, and the essence is of time.’

The elation of being back to normal was thoroughly extinguished when he remembered his mission.

‘You don’t honestly expect me to be able to defeat that… that _thing_ , and his King? I’m not the chosen one. I can’t be!’

‘The original chosen one, you are not,’ the Hatter acquiesced, ‘but the chosen one now, you are.’

He took off the dilapidated top hat, and turned it upside down, Luke watching in bemusement.

Reaching a clawed hand inside, the Hatter strained and grunted, searching for something. Luke half thought he would pull out the tiny white rabbit that had evaded him, but he was not prepared for the enormous blade the Hatter eventually pulled free with a flourish.

‘The vorpal sword,’ the Cat breathed in appreciation, ‘it is all I ever dreamed it would be.’

It was like no sword Luke had ever seen. It was long and slim, seeming to glow with a heavenly pure white light. It made the same unnatural sound that he had heard in the clearing when the Knight appeared, but at the same time it was somehow completely different. Whereas that blade promised only revenge, this sword promised justice.

The Hatter held the sword out to him expectantly. Hands trembling, Luke closed his palm around the silver engraved hilt, feeling a brief thrill of energy surge through him as he wielded the sword. It was heavy in his hold, yet also strangely familiar, like a skill he’d acquired in a dream and forgotten about.

‘Feel, how do you?’ the Hatter enquired.

‘I-I feel powerful,’ Luke said, stunned, holding the mighty sword aloft. He cut graceful arcs in the air with a few test swings, marvelling at the speed and power of the blade.

‘You do not need a sword to be powerful, Luke,’ said the Cat, ‘but it does help.’

‘You both must leave, before the Knight becomes suspicious,’ the Hare hastened, ‘he will soon learn that we have deceived him.’

‘But I don’t know where to go, much less what I’m supposed to do!’ Luke protested, retracting the blade and sliding it into his pocket.

‘Use your senses and let them guide you, young one. Follow the rabbit; he will lead you to your destiny,’ the Hare said, placing a paw on Luke’s shoulder in farewell. ‘I foresee you will become a much greater man than I, Luke Skywalker,’ he finished encouragingly. Luke smiled, neglecting to point out that this wasn’t much of a feat, considering he was the only human in the clearing.

‘Right, the Hare is. Depart, you must. Our only hope, you are,’ the Hatter said, settling his old wrinkled face into an expression of impenetrable argument.

The Cat nudged Luke softly with the tip of her nose, and he turned to leave.

‘Thank you for your help, old friends,’ she said, leaping down from the armchair and shaking her fur out, ‘I hope to take tea with you when this is all over.’

‘Oh yes! You must come for tea, and bring all your friends, for we have plenty to spare,’ the Hare said, settling into his chair again and, it seemed, the aura of vagueness that had pervaded him when Luke first arrived. He hummed absentmindedly, sipping tea from the one cup that had survived the Knight’s attack.

‘Succeed, you must. The Frabjous Day, you will bring,’ the Hatter warned Luke, his eyes unnervingly alert.

‘I will try,’ Luke promised. The Hatter shook his head, replacing his top hat.

‘Do, or do not. There is no try.’

With that, he began squawking along to the gramophone again, and the pair continued as if Luke and the Cat had never been there.

 _“_ ’ _Twas brillig and the slithy Toves_

_Did Gyre and Gimble in the Wabe!”_

Luke once again looked to the Cat for answers, bewildered, but she shrugged.

‘Don’t look at me. I may be mad, but they’re the maddest.’

They left, Luke following the Cat who seemed to know where she was going, walking through the grass and groves until the eerie song could no longer be heard.

‘What exactly _is_ the Frabjous Day?’ Luke asked as they wound their way through thickets and trees.

‘The long-prophesised day of the Jabberwock’s downfall. Once you defeat him with the vorpal sword, the Frabjous Day will begin,’ the Cat summarised.

‘And I’m guessing this… _Jabberwock_ is the Dark Knight himself?’ Luke hinted.

‘Guessing never helped anyone,’ the Cat said, ‘you must be certain. You must _know.’_

‘I don’t think _anything_ is certain around here,’ Luke muttered, checking for the thousandth time that the vorpal sword was still safely in his pocket. He was sure the Hatter would beat him with his gnarled stick if he ever lost it.

Not much later, Luke caught sight of a flash of white in the trees, darting in and out of the trunks. The rabbit was too far away to properly make out, but Luke was sure it was guiding them.

‘There!’ he pointed, ‘that’s where we need to go!’

The path led them out of the woods and into sprawling meadows again. Luke was glad that he was no longer a few inches tall; he would’ve succumbed to exhaustion in the long strands of grass, but now that he was fully grown again, they were making excellent time.

‘The Knight asked about you,’ Luke told the Cat when it was clear he wouldn’t be getting anymore information about the Frabjous Day.

‘I know; I was there.’

‘You once knew each other?’

The Cat laughed; an airy, tinkling thing.

‘You could say that.’

‘He once admired you… or at least, that’s what it sounded like. Were you once dark, like him?’

‘I was neither dark, nor light. I dabbled. Then I left.’

‘It sounds like he wants to make you dark again. Like he wanted you by his side.’

The Cat’s eyes glinted, and Luke was reminded that she was a predator.

‘Oh, well, I can’t be having that. I’m sure he’ll find I have many qualities for him to dislike. I take rather a pleasure in it.’

Luke laughed, and the Cat brushed his legs affectionately with her tail.

And with that, they walked side by side, following the rabbit into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, the Dark Knight is onto Luke now...
> 
> I squeezed so many stars wars movie quotes into this chapter, I’m actually quite proud of myself. 
> 
> Leave a comment to let me know what you thought, and thank you for reading!
> 
> Come scream about Hayden Christensen with me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/).


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